


What Makes a Family

by PrincessLuca22



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Children, Durin Family Feels, Gen, I was in a mood ok, I wrote this in 2 hours pls be nice, alternative family, no beta we post like illiterates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25924531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessLuca22/pseuds/PrincessLuca22
Summary: Fíli and Kíli only have one question for their amad: “Why don’t we have an adad?” Starring 3 baby dwarrow, hard questions, astonishing leaps of childish logic, speech impediments, and a single amad trying her best.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	What Makes a Family

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be writing Neither Took not Baggins? Yes. Should I also be making supper? Yes, again. Did I procrastinate on both because I was watching The Hobbit this afternoon and ran into some children who I was an EA in their grade two classroom before? Yes to all of the above. It made me think of how I had to intervene during a math class on fractions because two boys where arguing over who had the right answer during group work and one of them suddenly went “at least I have a dad!”. Big Oof. All mistakes are mine, please Kudos and leave a comment!

Dís was busy carving stones when her heart broke for the seventh time in her relatively short (for a dwarrow) life. (First was when her amad died, the second was the dragon, third was Azanulbizar, then when Frerin’s body was discovered, thenwhen her Adad’s never was, and the sixth was when Víli died.)

“Amad?” Came a tiny squeaky voice from behind her. 

“Yes, my pebble?” was her distracted reply. 

“Me and Kíli was-“

“Kíli and I. Speak properly, my love.”

A huff, then “ Kíli and I  where wondering... why don’t we have an Adad? Badis, Azli, and Nirric all have one.” 

The princess froze, and her heart shattered. Before she could even fathom how to respond to that, her smallest added in his two cents, strong lisp and all. 

“Even Gimli gots one, an’ he’s jussa baby! What’s he need a adad for anyway? All he does is sleep and poo.” Kíli’s dark little head popped around from behind his older brother, barely visible. (Kíli tended to follow behind Fíli, with both of his pudgy little hands grabbing the back hem of Fíli’s tunic, making the two of them resemble a baby oliphaunt following it’s mother.)

With a slow, long, lizard type blink, she tried (and still failed) to come up with some kind of toddler appropriateresponse. ‘Well,’ Dís couldn’t help but think, ‘an adad is really quite useful in helping change all the poopy diapers.’

Finally, her brain came up with “What brought this up, my loves?” 

Which was apparently the wrong thing to say. 

Immediately, Fíli’s little blonde eyebrows furrowed and his chubby little cheeks puffed up and turned ruddy. (The redness highlighted the barely-there, downy fluff on his cheeks. It was pale it was almost invisible.) 

And Kíli, her sweet, happy baby, sniffled and buried his head into his brother’s back. And being the biggest mamma’s boy, he answered. Or at least tried to. “Bmmmffhhhgrrr byuahbffmmmmkssss.”(Unfortunately, speaking through a snotty nose, some tears, and a few choice speech impediments directly into another child’s back did not make for clear, concise conversation.) 

“I... what? Kíli, come here and let me blow your nose and wipe your face.” Always ready to follow whatever his amad said, Kíli finally released his hold on his brother and crashed into his amad’s legs, and rubbed his face into her dress. (And all his mother could do was wonder when exactly she became so accepting of, and even expecting of, various bodily fluids on her clothes.) “Now l, Fíli, please. What’s brought this up?” She questioned her oldest as she took a clean rag and wiped down Kíli’s face before firmly instructing him to blow. 

“Well, Kíli and I went to go play, amad. We went to the park like we asked, and me and Kíli was starting to have fun playing in the sand and we was preten’ing to be miners, amad, when alla’ sudden Dagnir and Huc came over and shoved Kíli! We didn’t even do nuffin’!” While Fíli had started out slowly and speaking properly, his temper obviously started to kick in and he started to speak faster and faster, while seemingly forgetting all his lessons on proper Khuzdul. “An’, an’ then! They said we don’t have a real family! An’ I said ‘we so do! We have an amad, and iruk’adad, and a Dwalin an’ Balin! An’ I even said we have a Gloin, even though all he does now is talk about Gimli and a Oin, even though he’s old and sleeps maybe even more than Gimli and gives me yucky things to drink even though my tummy already hurts and he can’t hear! Then Huc said ‘well where’s your adad?’ An’ I told him he’s dead! Then... then...” and here it obviously became too much, because both of Dís’ sons burst into tears and started sobbing into her skirts. 

After gently shushing them and petting the tips of their little heads (Why in Mahal’s name is Kíli always vaguely sticky and Fíli full of sand? And why are their braids already loose, she did their hair not even two hours ago...) the two little dwarrow had finally calmed enough to continue telling their story. 

“And then Dagnir said ‘nuh uh, your adad probably saw the two of you and decided he didn’t want to be an adad anymore! You two look like elves! That’s probably why you don’t have one! Your adad’s an elf! And every dwarrow knows elves aren’t parents. Have you ever heard of a baby elf?’ Then Huc said, ‘Yeah, your adad doesn’t want you! And nobody else does either! That’s why you don’t have a  real  family.’” 

Sucking in a sharp breath, Dís felt her soul scream and cry in parental fury. And even though she hated it, hated it deep down to the very core of her being,she had to ask “Is that all, Fíli? Kíli? Or did those two say more.” 

“No,” Kíli said through some hiccups. “That’s everything. Fíli kicked Huc an’ I bit Dagnir an’ then we came running home to you, amad.” 

Dís paused in her ministrations, but quickly resumed them, deciding that, yes, as a parent, she should reprimand her boys for fighting. But on a personal level? Those two little shits deserved it. So she’d let it slide just this once. 

“But amad...” Kíli looked up at her, big brown eyes shiny with unshed tears. (‘Oh, those eyes should be illegal,’ the princess thought.) “Does that mean we don’t have a family?” 

Well, that thought needed to die a quick and immediate death. 

“Fíli, Kíli, did you know my amad, your siggin’ammad, died when I was just a bit older than Fíli? I was raised by my adad, my siggin’addad, and my brothers. Does that mean Thorin and I aren’t family?”

“But amad... that doesn’t count.” Fíli whined and stomped his little boot. “You guys where royalty of Azsâ... Azsâlel..”

“Almost, it’s an “u” instead of “e”, Fíli.”

“Amad! I’m not a pebble like Kíli! I don’t need your help. Just lemme think...”

Dís absentmindedly kissed the crown of Kíli’s skull when he started to protest being called a pebble, never mind the fact they both still where. While Fíli tried to remember the name, she quickly and efficiently rebranded his hair, with the kind of long-suffering expertise that only comes from being the amad of two rambunctious boys.

“AZSÂLUL’ABAD!” Hmm, seemed Fíli did really remember it on his own. 

“Good job, love. That’s a big name and it’s hard to remember. I’m proud of you.” 

But it seemed he could not be distracted by compliments. “But you and Iruk’adad where the prince and princess! Nobody can tell the royal family anything.” At his amad’s raised eyebrow, Fíliquickly backtracked. “At least, that’s what Iruk’adad says to Dwalin.” 

Seeing as Dís refused to touch Thorin and Dwalin’s particular brand of nonsense as far as she could throw it (which granted was very far, seeing as she was incredibly strong and her weapon of choice was throwing axes.), she chose to ignore it and focused on the other pressing information she could infer from that statement. “Fíli... Kíli... you realize you both are Princes, right? Princes of Azsâlul’abad? And Fíli, someday you’ll be  King of Azsâlul’abad?”

And going by Fíli’s shellshocked look he did not. (And looking at Kíli’s vacant eyed nibbling on a stone, oh for Durin’s sake  get that out of your mouth Kíli! Rocks are not for chewing on, Mahal have  mercy , this boy. Obviously being the last of the line of Durin did not measure up in her youngest’s eyes. He truly weighed their heritage, the beginning of their race, and found it lacking compared to some rocks inscribed with runes.) 

“Are you sure, amad?” Her little golden boy looked up at her with suspicion. 

Laughing, Dís replied. “Yes, my son. I am very sure.” 

Thinking, (And what a truly awful expression he made, his amad mused as she picked up Kíli. He made the same constipated face as Thorin.) Fíli quickly decided it still wasn’t the same. “But we’re not  really  princes, amad. We don’t live in a fancy palace under a mountain! And we don’t dress in fancy clothes, or wear lots of jewels or crowns or have big fancy meals! We’re just regular dwarrow.” Satisfied, Fíli gave a sharp nod of his little blonde head. ‘ Ouch ’ thought Dís dryly. ‘Truly from the mouth of babes.’ 

“Amad?” Came Kíli’s quiet voice, his face now tucked into her neck. 

“Hmm?”

“I like being’ jussa reg’lar dwarrow. If we where Prince’s, I don’t think me an’ Fíli could play as much, and I bet you and iruk’adad would be too busy to give us kisses and hugs or play with us. Thas’ what Balin said. He said Kings and princesses are  super  busy.”

“Yeah!” Fíli grabbed his amad’s hand, and interlocked their fingers. “And I bet if iruk’adad was  really  a King, he wouldn’t swear when he stubs a toe! Or, or, he wouldn’t scream when he saw me and Kee’s toad we caught! And he wouldn’t have slipped and landed in that goat poo yesterday! And I bet kings don’t throw up in their boots and then their Dwalin’s have to drag ‘em to bed!” Kíli had his little brows furrowed and was nodding his head along to everything his brother had said. Dís had been chuckling up until that point. A few weeks before, Thorin and Dwalin had gotten drunk out their minds, Thorin more so than Dwalin, and had puked his guts up into his boots after he had taken them off. Dwalin had been tasked, as the slightly more sober one, to drag his King and brother-in-arms to his bed. 

“How did you know that?” she asked sharply. “That happened  way  after all little dwarrow’s bedtime.”

Eyes wide, Fíli and Kíli both froze. (She wasn’t even surprised. Her boys did everything together from the moment Kíli was born. ‘I wouldn’t even be surprised if they died together,’ she jokingly thought.)

“Never mind, amad!” Her eldest said quickly. “But see? We’re just regular dwarrow so we can’t be a family!”

* * *

Cue another 15 minutes of Fíli crying hysterically into her skirts, and Kíli sobbing loudly and rubbing his snotty face into her neck and shoulder. 

When they had finally calmed down again, 

Dís decided to take them to visit a certain family she knew.

* * *

Standing outside the door of a run down shop on the rough side of Khaggal’abad. (And considering how rough the entire settlement was, it truly was a slum inside a slum.) The dirt streets where dark and full of liquids of a questionable origin, and the air smelt sour. Tension and suspicion seemed to permeate the air, and they had passed a few shifty looking dwarrow having hunched together, whispered conversations. 

But when they finally opened the door and walked inside, the soothing scent of chamomile tea washed over them. Inside, three dwarrow sat around a rickety, uneven table shoved into a corner on mismatched chairs. A fireplace took up almost the entirety of the left wall, while a rickety staircase leading upstairs took up the right. Along the back wall where some shelves contains bolts of fabric and a door, all of which had a countertop running the width of the building, separating it off from the common space. While it was small, cramped, and barren, everything was clean, obviously well loved, and taken care of. 

When the Durin’s has walked inside, the three dwarrow inside had immediately looked up at them. 

“Princess!” The seemingly oldest one said, getting up to greet them. “Are you back already? Was something wrong with your order?” 

“Amad, who’s that?” Fíli whispered as he tugged his amad’s skirt. 

“This is Dori. He’s who I’ve had make every single piece of clothing you’ve ever worn since you where born. Say hi.”

“Hi Dori.” Came two equally shy greetings. 

“Hello Dori, good to see you again. No, nothing is wrong. Fíli is growing like a weed though, and his tunic is already getting a little short on the sleeves. But I actually brought them over to meet Ori, if that’s alright?”

“Of course. Ori, dear, can you come here?”

Upon hearing his name, a little pebble slightly shorter than Fíli looked up from the book he was reading that was probably bigger than him, and turned around. He had the biggest brown eyes, a bowl cut, and the fluffiest little sideburns. “Nowi, help me pwease?” He raised his arms towards the other dwarrow sitting there. 

With a big dramatic sigh, the older dwarrow lifted the pebble up underneath the arms and set him down on the ground. 

“I see how it is then. You’re too old now to be friends with your brother, is that it?” 

“Nooowwwwiii,” chastised Ori.Turning back towards the Durin’s, he shyly lifted up his arm, causing his massively oversized knitted sweater to fall down his arm and expose his hand, and waved. “Hi, I’m Owi. Nice to meet you.” 

And bless her children for never being shy around peers. “Hi! I’m Fíli and that’s Kíli! Do you want to go play?” With that, the three pebbles tore off up the stairs. 

* * *

After a riveting game of pretending to be miners who discover and then subsequently kill a Balrog, Fíli asked the innocent question of “Where did your amad go? We didn’t meet her downstairs.” 

And to that Ori immediately replied, without hesitation, “Oh. I don’t have one. What do you want to play now? Nowi told me a stowy he heard about this King of Thieves.”

And as much as the idea of a KING of THIEVES appealed to the Durin’s, both of them where startled by the fact that their new friend didn’t have an amad. 

“No amad?” Kíli gasped. “But then, who kisses your booboos? And who gives you hugs and sings lullabies when you have a scary dream?”

“Kíli! His adad probably does all that stuff.”

And then Ori casually and unintentionally shattered Fíli and Kíli’s worldview. “Oh, I don’t have one of those either.”

“But...” Fíli said cautiously, “if you don’t have an amad  or  an adad, what do you have?” 

And here, Ori’s face lit up. “I have a Dowi! And a Nowi too, I guess. But Dowi waised Nowi, so now he’s weal good at waising me! Dowi gives me baths, feeds me and gives me lotsa hugs and kisses, even when I don’t want any.” 

“But, he’s your big brother! Big brothers can’t be an amad or your adad!” Fíli desperately tried to understand. 

Seemingly uncaring (or unknowing) of his new friends distress, Ori just shrugged his shoulders. (The movement was hardly visible under all the layers of knitwear he was buried in.) 

“My amad got weal sick and died wight after I was born, so I don’t know what one is supposed to do. And I never even  had  an adad, so I don’t know what they’re like either. But Nowi calls Dowi an ‘amad chicken’ or something, and Dowi’s always done what I’ve wead and seen Amad’s do. Besides, Nowi told me that your amad isn’t always your amad, same for adad’s, but all that matters is that they love you. And Nowi is never wrong, he twavel’s all the time and sees lots of stuff so he’s usually wight.”

Kíli’s little face was scrunched up, much like when he was still a new pebble and had to poo in his diapers. “What does that even mean? Does that mean amad isn’t really our amad?”

“Dowi told me it means that families aren’t always up of an amad and adad, but they’re always made up of people who love you. So do you what to be thieves? Nowi has some cool scarves we can wear if we ask.”

And so the three pebbles played until it was getting late and time to head home. 

* * *

“Amad?” Came Fíli’s quiet voice as she was tucking her two babies into the bed they shared. 

“Yes Fíli?”

“Ori said that families are made up of people who love each other. And that he doesn’t have an amad, but he has a Dori. And that Dori does everything you do.”

Dís waited for her eldest son to gather his thoughts as he struggled for what to say next.

“And... and... we don’t have an adad, but iruk’adad does all the stuff an adad does...” Fíli burrowed into the bedding until only one eye could be seen. “Does that mean he’s like our adad? Like how Dori is like Ori’s amad?”

“And they’re regular dwarrow like us, right amad? So that means it’s ok, right?” Came Kíli’s worried voice. (He also managed to frighten Dís, as she could have sworn he was out like a rock and had been softly snoring up until he spoke.)

“Yes, my loves. Thorin has  always  helped me raise you two, ever since you both where born. Even when your adad was still alive.” With two more forehead kisses, Dís got up and grabbed the candle. “And I know he thinks of the two of you like his own sons. But he’s not as smart about families as you two are, so he might not say something. But just know that he does, ok? Goodnight, I love you.” 

A twin chorus of “ok”, and “goodnight amad, love you too!” where the last things she heard before she closed their door. 


End file.
